Hide and Seek the Lord
by JMBangelgirl
Summary: Sequel to "Shallow Waters, Part Two" Andrew and Monica are sent to a mysterious mansion to help Diana Winslow's daughter face her past, and find the truth. Please R/R!
1. The Mansion In the Wood

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PROLOGUE

Disclaimer: Monica, Andrew, Tess, and Gloria belong to Martha Williamson and CBS productions. 

Tess pulled her red Cadillac into a driveway of a huge mansion that was hidden behind the forest green. You would never know that in the midst of all the trees, vines, and plant life that such a quaint building would be standing there. The mansion didn't have much history to it. It was just there, lonely and quiet. Only the animals of the forest visited it. Seeing the angels, a white dove that was perched upon a branch above tagged after the slowing car. It landed on the hood and cooed. 

"It looks like a castle in the fairytales," Monica suggested as she and Andrew studied the mansion it in amazement. 

"Is it vacant?" Andrew asked his and Monica's supervisor. Tess had a violent smirk on her face. Evidently, she wasn't going to say anything, Monica decided. 

"Oh there's someone in there," Tess replied grimly. She wiped a drop of sweat off of her dark skin. It was a hot, summer day and once the convertible had come to a stop, the cool wind had withdrawn.

Andrew ran his fingers threw his short, blond hair and sighed. 

"Okay, Tess, what are you up to?" the angel of death asked. He knew that the older angel was planning something.

"Tess?" the Irish angel asked, her soft voice turning into a whine. She shifted around in her place in the passenger's seat to face her supervisor.

Tess carried a mischievous look on her face. Her dark, brown eyes focused on the gears as she shifted into park and shut off the car. The three angels listened intently as the motor died down, leaving only the bird's chirping to break the silence. 

"Are you sure you want to know?" Tess asked, stepping out of the car. Monica and Andrew both nodded. "Well, I don't know how much you're going to like this assignment at first," the supervisor began. "I know how much you both hate, just _hate_ reuniting with assignments from the past."

"Tess!" Monica begged, her Irish eyes dazzling with wonder. 

"Oh, come on, Tess," Andrew said, his voice filled with excitement. "We really _hate_ them," he started. "We _love_ them."

"Well in that case this won't be so bad," Tess prompted, her voice trailing off. "Oh, all right. Do you two remember Diana Winslow?"

"Of course, Tess, we remember," Monica chirped.

"We worked with her and her family a very long time ago," Andrew pointed out. "She might be dead by now."

"Exactly right," Monica agreed. "So how could we be working with her now?" she asked in her Irish brogue.

"You won't be working with _her_," the supervisor announced. "You'll be working with her daughter, Elizabeth Winslow Benson." Tess turned her head to look at the mansion. 

"You're trying to tell me that her daughter lives in…" Monica stared at the gigantic home. "In there?" 

Tess nodded. She saw her angel girl's eyes fill with amazement. This would be an assignment to remember. 


	2. The Forbidden Closet

"Oh, what a lovely day it is today," Elizabeth sighed. "It's nice to have company again. It's been Little Liz and I for who knows how long."

Monica smiled as she folded and packed clothes into the wood wardrobe. She stopped to push a loose lock of auburn hair out of her face. She was dressed in a black and white maid uniform. She didn't like it, but promised Tess that she wouldn't complain. 

"Should I put these shoes in the closet…" Monica was immediately cut off.

"Never go in that closet!" Elizabeth ordered abruptly, nearly jumping out of her bed. "No one ever does," she said, this time her voice a little quieter.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," the Irish angel said sincerely. She quickly dropped her hand from the shiny, golden knob and sighed. "As you know, I'm new here-new to this maid thing too. It will take awhile to get used to all of this."

"It's quite all right, dear," Lady Benson said. She sipped her iced tea.

"Is there something a wee bit important in there?" she asked in her Irish accent.

"Did you hear what the temperature was today?" Elizabeth asked, quickly changing the subject. _Obviously, _Monica thought, _she doesn't want me to know about something. _

"Not yet. All I know is that it's hot." Monica wiped a drop of sweat of her forehead. "If you don't mind, after I'm done with these clothes, I think I'd like to get a sip of water."

"Of course, honey, go right ahead. There's iced tea in the refrigerator if you'd like. Just make yourself right at home," Elizabeth told the Irish angel.

A few minutes later, Monica descended down the rug-covered steps. She was beginning to wonder where Andrew was. He had not spoken to her for a while. Her mind was still focused on the closet in Lady Benson's room. What could be in it?

"Andrew?" she called softly as she entered the kitchen.

"What?" a gruff voice said. Monica still couldn't see her friend so she guessed he was behind the stove.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Back here."

"What are you doing back there?"

"I'm no coming out, okay?" the angel of death asked her. Monica walked towards the back of the large kitchen.

"Why not?" the Irish angel asked.

"You should see what I have to wear. No one will be seeing me if I'm back here cooking all the time." Monica grew a large grin on her flushed face. She wondered why her friend would be so embarrassed about his clothing. "I'm stuck in a white cook's uniform with some sort of hat that flings into my face whenever I lean down."

"Can I see?" Monica giggled.

"Only if you promise not to laugh," Andrew told her. Monica shrugged.

"I guess," she agreed. "But how bad can it be?"

"This bad," Andrew said. He slowly stepped out and right away Monica burst into laughing.

"Oh, Andy," she giggled. "It looks swell," she joked. Andrew glared at her with his emerald green eyes.

"Well, thanks a million, Angel Girl," he said, sarcasm ringing in his voice.

"You know, maybe if you took a pin to the top…"

"I think I solved it," the angel of death said. He whipped the hat from his head. "How 'bout I just don't wear it?"

"Oh, but, Andy, it brings out your true…looks," Monica said. She started to laugh once more, tears almost running out of her eyes. She looked over to the table and her eyes locked onto a dish of cookies. She absentmindedly reached over with her small fingers and stuffed one into her mouth. "I say keep it," a mouth-filled voice mumbled.

"Those _were_ going to be for Elizabeth, but after someone put their germs all over them, I'm not sure how much she'll want them. And I'm not keeping the hat!" Andrew threw it onto the table and walked back into the kitchen. "By the way, there's coffee on the burner. Fresh made too."

Monica smiled and stepped over towards the stove and said, "I was hot and going to have water, but I think I'd have coffee even if I were in the Bahamas."

"Of course you would, Angel Girl," Andrew laughed. "You are addicted."

"I wouldn't say addicted," the Irish angel said. "I would probably say that I'm unable to…"

"To go without coffee one day," Andrew smiled.

"No," Monica said. She shot him an evil stare. "I could if I wanted to."

"Then how 'bout today be that day," Andrew suggested.

"Too late, already had some this morning before we left."

"Don't tell me they serve you it up there?" Andrew asked in disbelief. He stared up towards the heavens. 

"No, I stopped at the café in town," Monica said with a humph of disgust.

"Well, sweetie, I have to say that you're addicted. No matter what you do, you can't go without drinking coffee first."

"Angel Babies," Tess said, appearing before them. "Oh, what are those?" she asked, hinting as she pointed to the cookies on the table. "They look mighty tasty."

"They are, Tess," Monica told her supervisor. "Andrew made them."

"Yes, I did, but I made them for Lady Benson," the angel of death said, rolling his eyes in disgust at the puppy look that Tess gave him. "Oh, what the heck, go ahead then." He sighed. Tess smiled and chewed slowly.

"What I was going to say," she added. "Was that you two better stop fooling around in here…Angel Boy, what is that?"

"Oh, yes, Tess," Monica said with a laugh. "He has to wear that hat."

"Well isn't that something," Tess giggled. "And he doesn't even have it on."

"You two, Tess?" Andrew asked his supervisor in astonishment. "I'm not wearing it. It's…it's too…"

"He thinks it's too floppy," Monica interrupted her friend. "I, me self think it brings out his natural touch to cooking."

"I think that's a compliment," Andrew murmured. He grabbed the hat and plopped his on top of his blond hair. "There, happy?"

Monica and Tess both nodded. They exchanged glances and sighed.

"You know, Angel Girl, you're really right about the natural…"

"Okay, okay," Andrew said. "Enough about me and my good looks, let's get a move on our assignments."

The two ladies cracked a sickened expression at the angel of death. His green eyes sparkled with glee and his face beamed.

"I know, I'm just to…"

"Did I hear someone say assignment?" Tess said, purposely cutting off her charge. "That's right, my assignment is Liz."

"And I have to finish the laundry," Monica said.

"And I have to finish cooking," Andrew said. "My assignment is still coming. You'll know who he is when he gets here. I can promise you that."


	3. The Man Called Daddy

"Good morning, Liz," the cheery Irish lilt announced as the teenager sleepily walked into the living room. "Up for school?"

"Unfortunately," Liz said. She rubbed her eyes and walked towards the Victorian couch, plopping down on it as if she were going back to sleep.

"I believe someone ordered breakfast," Andrew said, walking into the dining room. He set down a silver tray of oatmeal, pancakes, toast, and orange juice. Liz took one look at it and stuck her tongue out. "I know, I know, not the best meal to the teen's eye, but your grandmother gave me strict orders to feed you properly and this is one way of doing it."

"Oatmeal? What happened to the Frosted Flakes, Cheerios, and Kellogg's? Why can't I eat like any normal girl?" Liz complained, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead with her fingers. Monica looked up from tending the flowers in the bay window. 

"Because most "normal" teenage girls these days are having an eating disorder. Your grandmother is only trying to prevent that form happening to you," Monica explained. She walked over to the table and stood by Andrew, peering down at the food. "Look, it's not too bad." But right after saying that, the Irish angel turned her back towards Liz and made a face. "Andrew," she whispered, why don't you throw a wee bit of cinnamon and sugar into that hot cereal. It would make more appealing."

Andrew smiled at his friend and put an arm around her. His emerald eyes glimmered with delight.

"Let me guess, the next thing you're going to tell me it to give her some coffee. But guess what, Elizabeth…"

"Did you make coffee?" Monica asked eagerly. Before Andrew could answer, Monica was already making her way for the kitchen where she inhaled the fresh brewed smell. "I know that smell," she prompted. Her brown eyes filled with delight as she found the china that Andrew had set out ahead of time for her. He had predicted his friend would find her way to the coffee.

"I made it specially for you," the angel of death said. "It's a mocha latte. The regular is still on the burner. I think I could get to this cook thing."

"Me too," Monica added absentmindedly. 

"Hey, now don't be getting ahead of yourself," Andrew joked. "I'm the cook and what I say cooks." Monica giggled.

"Well, Andy, you can say coffee any time you'd like to."

"Are you two already up?" an elderly voice asked. Monica and Andrew turned around in surprise to find Elizabeth walking into the kitchen. She wore a velour bathrobe that was printed with pink flowers. "I smelled something cooking and had to come down to see what it was. And to my surprise, I find two coffee addicts in here."

"She's the coffee addict," Andrew gestured. He lovingly put his arm around his friend and smiled. "When we're in human…What I'm trying to say is that she can never go a day without coffee. I drink it once in a while, but she is another story." Andrew gave a sigh of relief, grateful that he caught himself. Monica shot him a sudden glance and smiled.

"I do love coffee," the Irish angel explained. "But I wouldn't say that I'm addicted."

"No one would, dear. If you're addicted to something, like in this instance coffee, you never want to admit to it. If you said that I'm addicted to flowers, well?" Elizabeth looked all around herself. The room was full of daisies, and the backyard was blooming with rose bushes. The living room was filled with pots and vases of petunias and carnations. Then she glanced down at her pink flowered, covered bathrobe. "I might have to agree with you…" her voice trailed off as the three broke off into a laugh. Suddenly, a knock on the door cut the laughter off.

"I'll get it," Liz called. The three walked out of the kitchen to find the teenager swinging the heavy door open. There, in the doorway, stood a man who looked about in his forties or fifties. 

"I told you I would come back for you, Elizabeth," a handsome voice said. He scooped up the teenager in his arms and hugged her tightly.

"Daddy," she whispered into his ear. Andrew and Monica exchanged glances and Andrew walked over to her.

"My assignment begins," he uttered. 


End file.
